


Revenge Is a Dish Best Not Served

by EmIsSkittles



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animagus Harry Potter, Auror Harry Potter, Case Fic, Coffee Shops, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Good Draco Malfoy, M/M, MACUSA | Magical Congress of the United States of America, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Not Epilogue Compliant, Past Character Death, Powerful Harry Potter, Slow Burn, Wandless Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22286530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmIsSkittles/pseuds/EmIsSkittles
Summary: When Harry is asked to return to England to investigate a troubling series of serious crimes, he doesn't realise at first how much he has missed in the last seven years, whilst he was working for the Magical Congress of the United States of America.Notably, how attractive key witness Draco Malfoy has become.Harry must try and navigate his re-introduction to England, meddling friends, and a difficult case, all the while attempting to convince himself he is not, and will not, fall for Draco Malfoy.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hannah Abbott/Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	1. Returning Home

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my wonderful readers! 
> 
> Thank you for even making it this far. This is only my second fic I have ever written, so please continue to be the kind and understanding wonderful people you are when it may take me a while to post new chapters, and I may make a few editing mistakes here and there. 
> 
> This is still very much a work in progress. I am hoping to post a chapter once a week (the first few will be a little closer together) 
> 
> Feel free to leave any thoughts or feedback in the comments! I love hearing my readers theories and ideas on how the story will go. 
> 
> My love to you all, 
> 
> Em

Harry sighed, glancing at the newspaper once more before tossing it onto the already cluttered desk. He took a deep steadying breath as he surveyed his surroundings. Suitcases lay open, as stacks of neatly folded clothes continued to pack themselves into various bags. Twisting his hand in a precise series of motions, books and photographs from the shelves began to pack themselves into boxes and cases as well. 

Dread began to pool in the pit of his stomach. Harry knew that returning to England was the right thing to do, that staying here, staying in this house, this house where so many memories were soured, was not an option. There was no going back on this decision. The Magical Congress of the United States of America had already signed his official transfer papers, making him an employee, once again, of the British Ministry of Magic. It had been seven long years since Harry had stepped foot in England. 

Shaking his head, he turned back to the task at hand. He knew he had less than two hours until his international portkey would activate, and he would be back on English soil. Pulling his American issue auror robes off the bed he quickly got changed. He knew he would be given new ones on his arrival, but for now, these would have to do. Stepping in front of the mirror, he ensured the dark blue robes fell neatly over his shoulders, and he swept a hand through his hair. He wasn’t accustomed to the shortness of it yet. Looking into the mirror, he no longer saw a pale skinny boy looking back at him, instead, he saw a deeply tanned muscular man, who was sure of who he was. The years had been kind to Harry. 

His things mostly packed, Harry sat down tiredly at his desk, moving the newspaper aside. “Scandal! Harry Potter, The Chosen Queer? More on Page Two!”. A brief wave of anger flowed through Harry as he swept the paper into the bin instead, settling instead on the case file in front of him. 

This was the reason he was being pulled back to England. An organisation of witches and wizards had been systematically hunting down ex death eaters and their families and “punishing” them for their crimes, most of whom had already been punished or served lengthy sentences in Azkaban. Around three years ago, when the attacks first started occurring, they were more minor.

The ministry seemed to turn a blind eye, and most of the attacks went unacknowledged, the after effects of the war still weighing down on many, especially those in the ministry. On the outside, they did their best to make it seem like investigations were underway, but anyone who worked there could tell you that many of the higher up officials, who determined whether or not to address the cases, seemed to think it was some sort of divine retribution that supporters of the dark lord were being punished again.

Harry flipped through the first section of incident reports, detailing death eaters and their families being the victim of death threats, curses, destruction of property and in rare cases, unforgivables. Most of these incidents were not investigated, and no suspects were documented. Even though this was not the first time Harry read this case file, he felt the anger once again wash over him. It should not have taken years for these cases to be re-opened. 

Turning slowly to the next section, Harry continued to re-read the file. He needed to make sure every piece of information was fresh in his mind. The first documented death caused by this organisation was on the 2nd of May 2006. Just over two years ago, on the eighth anniversary of the end of the second wizarding war. Severe curse damage landed a young woman in St Mungo’s, where she fought for her life for 18 hours before passing away. The woman had not been a death eater, but the wife of one. Eyes skimming down the page, Harry finally found her name. Astoria Malfoy, wife of Draco Lucius Malfoy. 

As Harry finished reading the rest of the folder, a disgusted feeling settled in the bottom of his gut. He could not believe it had taken three years and six deaths before the ministry began to investigate in earnest. 

Closing the folder, Harry sighed. He knew that the Ministry requesting his return, was at least in part, another publicity stunt. They wanted the wizarding world, especially those who had began to question the integrity of the ministry, to see they were taking this matter seriously. So seriously, they had gotten the great Harry Potter himself to return and assume the position of lead auror on the case. Had circumstances been different, Harry may have considered not going. 

Harry had built a good life in America. Though he was still undeniably famous here, people didn’t mob him in the streets anymore, and up until a year and a half ago, the papers had left him in peace, for the most part. He had built himself a strong career, and a reputation as an outstanding auror. He had people here, friends he considered close enough to be family. And until a few days ago, he had Liam. 

Harry closed his eyes. Fighting back a surge of emotion as Liam once again, rose to the forefront of his mind. He met Liam five years ago, snow skiing in the south of France. They had been on the same ski trip, and Liam had taken an instant shine to Harry. He was confident, kind, and devilishly handsome. They bonded, one thing leads to another, and soon they began dating. 

They took things slow for a while. Harry at that point, was still not right after the war, and his mind healer advised him that rushing into a relationship might not be the best idea. He needed time to learn to love himself before he could even fathom loving anybody else. 

All these years later, had things not gone wrong, Harry had planned to propose. But with Liam long gone, and the engagement ring deep at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean somewhere, that was no longer on the table. He was sure that the American papers would weep, having lost their inside man to feed them information on Harry’s private life, but some betrayals are too painful to forgive. 

Harry checked his watch, and stood up, linking his fingers and raising his arms above his head, stretching out his muscles. There was now only half an hour until his portkey activated. He turned around, and his gaze swept the room. Apart from his files, everything was packed that Harry planned to take. He picked up a small briefcase and locked the case files inside, before shrinking the briefcase and tucking it in the inner pocket of his robes. 

He zipped up his suitcases, shrunk them, and cast a lightening charm on them, before tucking them in the pocket of his trousers. He walked through the door of his room, and into the main living area of the apartment. He smiled a sad smile, knowing this was likely the last time he would ever set foot in this place. 

He took a letter out of his pocket and lay it on the kitchen table. If Liam ever came back here, he would find it. He opened the door, stepping out into the cool afternoon breeze. He had a little bit of time for one last coffee, he thought. 

Harry wandered the familiar path to the little coffee shop on the corner. Despite the fact it was almost noon, he knew he could rely on this place to be quiet. Harry pushed open the door to the shop, the gentle tinkling of a bell to announce his arrival. The woman behind the counter glanced up and broke into a wide smile. “Harry!” she exclaimed, putting down the paper she had been reading to stride over and embrace him in a tight hug.

“Hiya Sam” Harry said softly, hugging her back for a few moments longer than usual. They broke apart. “I’ve come to say my goodbyes” Harry admitted, trying not to let his sadness creep into his voice. 

“To the coffee or to me?” Sam asked, making her way back to the counter. Harry smiled “Both?” he said, making it sound more like a question than he intended. 

Sam sighed, her happy mood seeming to evaporate. “I thought you had a few more days” she said, grabbing a cup and making a coffee for Harry without question. She didn’t need to ask what he wanted. 

Harry walked over to lean against the other side of the wooden counter. “I know,” he said. He looked down and fiddled with one of the menus. “I thought I did too. They phoned me last night to let me know they wanted me there early” he said eventually. 

Sam nodded. “I’m impressed they managed to get you on an earlier flight with such little notice” she said, her tone full of something almost close to an accusation. 

Harry nodded slowly. He would never get used to this. The lying. “I suppose that’s the benefit of working for the government,” he said, hoping his voice came out steady.

“Well” started Sam, handing him his coffee, “We will miss you. We all will”. Harry took the coffee and nodded, smiling at her. 

“I better be on my way.” Harry said, clutching the takeaway cup in his hand. “Tell the others goodbye from me. I don’t have time to see anyone else before I go, leaving early on such short notice and all that”. 

Sam nodded, and walked around the counter to hug him one last time. “Take care, Harry. Don’t forget to call us when you’re living large in London.” 

“I won’t” Harry promised. Taking one last look at the small coffee shop, he walked outside. He checked his watch, three minutes to go. 

Harry made his way slowly down a small laneway, the large building to either side casting huge shadows on the ground around him. He made sure he was out of sight before leaning against the smooth stone wall, fishing his portkey from his pocket. A small token which just read “London, Harry Potter”. 

Another minute later he closed his eyes, right before he felt the familiar tug, and the dizzying feeling of being pulled forward too fast, before his feet hit the ground once again, on home soil.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry kept his eyes closed, giving his body a few moments to adjust, and his head a few moments to stop spinning. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times, before stepping out of the portkey cubicle into the department of magical transport. 

People hurried about all around him, most carrying briefcases or case files, probably returning from meetings or business trips. Only ministry employees could portkey directly into the ministry now. It only took a few seconds for many to realise who had just arrived. People stared as they walked past, some nodding as they greeted him, some just watching in open amazement. Harry knew he shouldn’t be surprised. It had been a long time since he had been in England. 

“Harry!” A female voice suddenly exclaimed, and he looked to his left just in time to see Hermione Granger-Weasley striding towards him, a huge smile on her face. She seemed to hesitate for a moment before pulling him into a tight hug. 

“Hi Hermione” Harry said, grinning as he hugged her back. They stayed like that for a moment, clinging to each other like they so often did that last year of the war. The rise and fall of each of their breaths grounding them. 

Harry pulled back and ran his eyes over Hermione. She had changed a lot. It had been five years since they had seen each other. Her hair, now long and sleek was twisted up in an elegant bun, and her healer robes, crisp and clean, emphasized the air of authority she always seemed to have. 

“I have rented a nice apartment in London” said Harry, releasing her, unsure of what else to say. “I know I’ll have to look for something more permanent soon but, for now it will do.” 

Hermione nodded thoughtfully as they started out of the ministry. Harry didn’t have to check in until tomorrow morning with the head auror, so he made a quick decision to instead go home first and see his new place. He hoped it was as nice as the photos made it seem. “Ron wanted to be here as well you know, when you arrived” she started, her voice sounding a little nervous, “But someone had to look after the kids, and we didn’t really want to bring them to the ministry.” 

Harry had expected this. He knew Ron had taken Harry’s lack of communication with either of them harder than Hermione had. When Harry moved away, he had promised he would visit at least once a month and that they would still speak every day, but over time, those promises faded to almost nothing. In the last couple of years, they had exchanged a couple of letters and nothing more. Harry still thought about them both a lot, but never could think of quite the right thing to say to explain why he stopped writing. “It got busy” didn’t quite seem to cut it. 

“Ah yes, of course.” Harry managed, “I wouldn’t expect you to bring the two little ones into the ministry. Being half Weasley’s, I bet they are both quite the handful”. Harry grinned a little, trying to ease the unspoken tension between them.

“Well, there’s three of them now, not two, so it can be a lot sometimes. They do take after their father.” Hermione said, smiling back at Harry, but she had a sadness filling her eyes. 

“Oh! Congratulations Mione.” Harry said, giving her a half hug as they walked. “A boy or a girl?” he asked after a moment. 

“A boy.” She said, smiling to herself. “You should go settle in to your new place then. I just wanted to make sure you got here safe.” She seemed to assess him for a moment. “You look really well Harry. Like you’ve been looking after yourself.” She paused for a moment, seeming to contemplate if she should continue. “Perhaps you would like to come for tea tomorrow night?”

“Of course, that sounds great.” Harry sighed, relieved he could go to his apartment and collect his thoughts before seeing Ron. He suspected that would not be the easiest of reunions. 

Hermione smiled at him, “I’ll see you tomorrow then. 7 o’clock?” she asked, as she stopped in front of one of the ministry’s floos. 

“Seven sounds great,” said Harry, trying to ignore the crowd that was beginning to form in the foyer of the ministry, all staring at him. “I’ll see you then”. Hermione nodded once more, before stepping into the fireplace and disappearing. 

Harry finally managed to make it out of the ministry, after stopping to greet several other old friends he remembered from his auror training here. It wasn’t had to slip back into his old ways. It was hard however, to go unnoticed, his MACUSA robes drawing him a lot of attention on their own. If there was one thing he could count on, it was that London hadn’t changed a bit while he was away. Harry shrugged off his robes, folded them, and shrunk them, stowing them in his pocket before walking outside. 

The sun was setting over the busy street, but Harry was in no rush. He breathed in the cool air, the familiar smells and sounds of the city washing over him, seeming to welcome him home.

One Week Later…

Harry groaned, as the musical sounds of his alarm clock pulled him from his sleep. He turned it off and rolled over. His first day off since arriving and he had forgotten to shut off his alarm. He pulled himself out of bed and changed into his running gear and joggers. He may as well make the most of being up early. 

He brushed his teeth and ran his hands through his short hair. Even now, it still wouldn’t lie flat. Giving up, he made his way out of his apartment and locked the door behind him. He didn’t really need to, with his wards being the strongest you could have, but he had formed the habit whilst in America and saw no reason to stop. 

He stretched a little, and then started off down the street, falling into an easy jog. This at least was normal. This hadn’t changed. Moving back had been an adjustment for Harry to say the least. Being around the people he had left behind all those years ago was the hardest. Not knowing so many of them anymore, not having the easy banter they had always had. Neville was married now, to Hannah Abbott. They owned the Leaky Cauldron together. Dean and Seamus had gotten together, not long after Harry had left. They managed one of the many Weasley Wizard Wheezes stores that now existed in England. 

And Ron. Well. Ron was starting to forgive him, Harry thought. A few awkward dinners later and things were starting to fall back into place. They had found an easy sort of company which involved strictly not speaking about anything they found difficult and opting rather to ignore the tension that had been between them, much to the disappointment of Hermione. But it was a start. It was better than nothing. 

The cold wind whipped at Harry’s face as he ran, and he realised it had become quite overcast as he jogged. He forgot how miserable the weather was in London, compared to New York. He smiled a little to himself and kept running. 

The case was off to a slow start. Harry had spent much of the first week gathering as much information as possible, as what he did have was sparse and full of gaps. He did however, think he was beginning to make some progress. Patterns seemed to be emerging in the attacks, and Harry was beginning to understand who the organisation seemed to be targeting. 

It appears they were focused on those who they identified as closest to Voldemort. Many of his most dedicated followers had not yet been released from Azkaban, so they were aiming for the next best thing. Their children, partners, lovers. It didn’t seem to matter to them if they themselves were involved in the war, it seems they were viewed as guilty by association. 

Harry knew the next step forward was to begin the process of interviewing the families of the victims. Seeing if there were other possible motives, seeing if there were any other factors they had in common, and collecting all the details he knew for sure were missing. His team were, for the most part, very competent. It appears most of them had volunteered for the case, hating to see these awful crimes go unsolved for so long, but not having the bravery or the authority to say anything sooner.   
There was four of them assigned to the case. Harry, Harvey Jonson a senior auror, a young woman with an impressive close rate, Jess Marshall, and a young man fresh out of training, Vic Alberts. They made a competent team all in all. After Vic got over his hero worship that is. 

Harry continued running, picking up the pace slightly. He wanted to do at least five miles before the rain hit and he had to return home. Running was something suggested to Harry by his mind healer. After the fragment of Voldemort’s soul inside Harry had been killed, Harry’s magic became even stronger and more potent. He rarely used a wand these days, finding when he did many of his spells came out with far too much force. This put Harry on edge while he adjusted, and his mind healer suggested running to try and calm him down, and to strengthen his body to accommodate the influx of new, stronger magic. 

He felt the first tell-tale drips of water on his shoulders and looked for somewhere to stop, to keep out of the rain. Up ahead, Harry spotted a small café, its open sign flickering weakly. He slowed to a slow jog as he reached the café. Stopping under the awning he stretched his muscles a little to cool down, before walking inside. 

The inside of the café was surprisingly crowded. There were not many tables, but all were filled with people drinking coffee and talking quietly over breakfast. Harry approached the counter and ordered a latte from the girl behind the counter, who seemed to spend the entire time admiring Harry’s looks rather than paying much attention to her job. He managed a small smile and headed over to a booth around the corner which seemed to be empty while he waited for his coffee. 

It wasn’t until he was almost there he realised, there was in fact a man and a child already seated in the booth, both wearing raincoats and beanies, bent over a book of fairy tales which lay open on the table. 

“Do you mind if I sit?” he asked hesitantly, looking around. His legs were tired, and he wanted to rest a while and wait out the rain. “Everywhere else is taken” he explained, a touch of pleading in his voice. 

The man looked up, startled. Even after all these years, Harry would recognise that face anywhere. Seated in front of him, was none other than Draco Malfoy.


	3. No Need To Cry Over Spilt Milk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this far my lovely humans!
> 
> I pinky promise I will give you more information on Liam, and on Harry's time in America as the story progresses so don't fret! 
> 
> This is as far as I pre-wrote before I began to post, so updates will become more spaced from now on (likely a week between chapters? But I make no promises. Just believe my poor Draco loving heart is doing it's best)
> 
> I hope you're enjoying it so far! Feel free to comment on any questions, thoughts, or theories you may have! I love to hear your opinions <3 
> 
> Love to you all,   
> Em

Harry felt an odd feeling surge through him as he looked at the shocked face he hadn’t seen in years. 

Draco Malfoy. His boyish good looks had morphed into the face of a rather handsome man. He had grown into his angular features, and the slightest hint of a tan showed on his once pale skin. This was no longer the face of his childhood rival, but rather of a different man. A kinder man, Harry hoped. 

How long ago those rivalries felt now, Harry mused. 

Draco didn’t say anything, he just seemed to stare at him in shock, as though he thought he may be hallucinating. It was the young boy who spoke up in the end, glancing up at Harry, seeming to consider him for a moment. 

”Do you know any fairy tales?” he asked, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of a different story, other than the well-worn book sitting in front of him. 

“Perhaps” said Harry, giving him a small smile. “Malfoy?” Harry said nervously, turning his attention to the man in front of him. “Is it okay if I sit with you while I wait?” he asked, sounding hesitant, and admittedly, a little uncomfortable. 

This seemed to snap Draco out of his daze and he sat up a little straighter. “Potter” he said, managing a nod in Harry’s direction. “Of course, who am I to deny the saviour a seat?” he said, an odd look on his face. He put an arm protectively around the little boy sitting next to him. 

Hearing his name, the small boy’s eyes once again snapped up from his book. The exact same grey as Malfoy, Harry observed. “Potter?” he asked, “Like Harry Potter?” he exclaimed, a huge grin forming on his face. 

Harry nodded. “You can call me Harry” he said, smiling at the little boy. He noticed a tuft of hair that had escaped the beanie, the same white blonde as Draco. 

“I’m Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy” he said, extending a small slightly sticky hand for Harry to shake. He grinned as Harry shook his outstretched hand. Malfoy’s son, Harry thought. How interesting. He had known, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Malfoy had a son. He supposed it made his case even more important. 

“I thought you were in America, Potter” said Draco, doing his best to sound civil. Harry noticed an edge to his voice but couldn’t quite place what it was. The years hadn’t seemed to thaw the ice that had always been between them. 

“I got transferred back to the Auror department here” he admitted, sliding into the other side of the booth. “They wanted me back for a case.” Harry paused for a moment. “It was probably time to come home anyway” he finished lamely. 

“Indeed” said Draco, looking as though he was forcing a half smile. “I can hear the American accent creeping into your voice. What will the people think, their great British saviour, converted?” he asked, not really expecting an answer. 

Harry looked at him, and the edge of his mouth pulled up slightly into a smile. “They had only just stopped teasing me that I sounded like I had just come from tea with the queen” Harry joked, relaxing a little in his seat. 

Draco nodded, and turned his attention back to his son. 

“Actually Malfoy, it might be a good thing I ran into you.” Harry started slowly. Draco’s eyes snapped back to Harry’s worried face. “I was hoping we could organise to have a word some this week.” Harry lowered his voice. “I am investigating the group responsible for the attack on your wife, and I would like to ask a few questions.” Harry finished, quietly. 

Draco shifted in obvious discomfort. “Another time Auror Potter, when young ears aren’t around to hear.” Draco hissed quietly, nodding towards Scorpius. 

Harry nodded, and sat back in his seat. The young woman from behind the counter approached them and handed Harry his coffee with a smile. Glancing out the window, Harry saw the rain had begun in earnest now, pelting against the window pane and the sidewalk outside. 

Scorpius broke the silence eventually. “Dad?” he asked, almost hesitant as he looked up from his book. 

“Yes Scorpius?” Draco said, looking fondly at his son. It was one of the first times Harry had seen kindness on his face. He wore it well. 

“I thought you said Mr Potter hated you?” he tried to whisper, staring earnestly up at his father. Harry snorted into his coffee, trying to hide his grin. Draco scowled at him before turning back to his son. 

“We weren’t the best of friends in school.” Draco said after some time. Harry seemed to be struggling not to laugh. 

“I don’t hate your father Scorpius.” Harry said, trying his best to keep his voice steady. “We just uhm… had our differences.”

“Eloquent as ever.” Draco said, an unreadable expression on his face. “It’s okay Potter. He knows about the war. I’ve told him my family was on the wrong side of things” Draco said quietly. “He deserves to know why we get treated the way we do.” He continued, not quite meeting Harry’s eyes.

“No one deserves to be treated poorly Malfoy. What has been happening is a disgrace” Harry replied, a little venom seeping into his voice. He clutched his coffee cup tightly between his hands. 

Malfoy didn’t reply. He seemed to be examining his hands, which he rested on the table. Scorpius, having abandoned any pretence of not listening, stared openly at Harry. 

Harry sighed and took a few sips of his coffee. “Did you enjoy America?” Malfoy eventually asked, looking up. 

“I loved it” Harry admitted, “Thought for a while I would never leave.”

Draco considered this for a moment. “So why did you?” he asked, leaning back against the booth. He tapped his elegant fingers against his coffee cup as he waited for Harry’s answer. 

Harry took another sip of his coffee and considered his response. “No matter where I go, the press just seems to follow me. So I may as well be here” Harry said eventually. It was basically the truth, he reasoned. 

“At least the press grew bored of my personal life after I was sentenced” Draco said. He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I never thanked you” he said suddenly. 

Harry shrugged. “I just did what I thought was right” he said quietly, thinking back to Malfoy’s trial. Harry had refused to testify at many of the trails following the war. He couldn’t bring himself to think about the war back then. About everyone he had lost. But Malfoy, well. He was different. 

“Well I didn’t deserve it, so thankyou” Draco said, looking away from Harry and taking another sip of his coffee. 

Harry nodded at him slowly. “You did deserve it but, you’re welcome Malfoy” Harry said eventually, looking Malfoy in the eyes. 

The waitress returned, carrying a tray with two plates piled high with waffles, and two milkshakes. and placed them in front of Malfoy and Scorpius with a smile. “Enjoy!” she said happily, oblivious of the residual tension at the table. 

Scorpius squealed in excitement and reached across the table for a knife and fork, in the process knocking his milkshake all over Harry. He froze, hand half extended. 

“I’m sorry Mr Potter it was an accident I swear!” he exclaimed, shrinking back into his seat, hand clutched to his chest. Draco glanced at the mess covering Harry in alarm. 

“Oh Merlin, I’m sorry Potter. Let me ask the waitress for some napkins” Draco said, making to stand up. Harry put a hand on his arm, stilling him. Harry’s fingers seemed to tingle at the contact, and he withdrew his hand quickly. 

“It’s fine Malfoy” he said quickly, glancing around to make sure no one was watching them. The corner booth seemed to be a good choice after all. He swept his hand in a subtle motion in front of him, and the mess disappeared from his clothes and the table. Scorpius, who looked close to tears, continued to stare at the floor. 

“Scorpius, it’s fine” Harry started, smiling at him. “See? No harm done” he said, gesturing at his clothes. 

Scorpius snuck a glance up, and his face changed to an expression of wonder as he saw the mess was indeed gone. “Will I be able to do that someday Daddy?” Scorpius asked Draco, his eyes still fixed on Harry. 

Harry thought it was odd that Scorpius seemed so impressed by such a simple display of magic but decided against saying anything. 

Harry glanced up at Malfoy, and saw he looked even more shocked than Scorpius, a pink flush to his pale cheeks. “Wandless and wordless magic Potter?” he said, avoiding Harry’s gaze. He seemed to suddenly register that his son had spoken to him. “Similar Scorp” he started, turning to face him, “You’ll need a wand to do spells though.” 

“How come Mr Potter doesn’t need a wand?” Scorpius asked, looking earnestly up at his father. 

“My Potter is a …. Special case” Malfoy finished lamely.

Harry just shrugged. Most of his friends and colleagues in America had gotten use to his displays of wandless, wordless magic. He had forgotten that in Britain, people weren’t so accustomed. 

Scorpius turned back to his now empty cup and frowned. “Dad, can I have another one?” he asked, looking up at Malfoy with sad wide eyes. Draco sighed and pushed his own milkshake in front of the boy, smiling slightly.   
Harry watched this interaction curiously. This man sitting in front of him now was nothing like the boy he knew in school. 

“Anyway Malfoy, I should get going” Harry said eventually. “Thanks for letting me share your table” he added as an afterthought. Standing slowly, Harry winced at the ache in his legs. “I’ll owl you to set up a time to talk about the case”. 

Malfoy looked up, surprised “A pleasure as always Potter” he said, his voice sounding less snide than usual. “Perhaps when I see you next, try wearing something less indecent,” he said, an amused tone to his voice. 

Harry glanced down at his outfit. His old running t-shirt hugged his muscular body tightly, leaving very little to the imagination, as did his pants.

“No promises Malfoy” Harry said, and in a lapsed moment of sanity, he winked at him. 

Realising what he had done, he turned around hurriedly and walked towards the door of the café. It was still raining outside. 

He cast a subtle water repellent charm on himself before he stepped outside and began the long run back to his apartment. His thoughts never strayed from Malfoy and his son.


	4. Don't steal the Koi Fish Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my wonderful readers, 
> 
> Please enjoy a little more insight into our main characters! 
> 
> As always, feel free to comment any thoughts down below! (I'm a feedback whore, what can I say) 
> 
> My love to you all,   
> Em

“And you’re sure there is nothing else you can tell me Mr Nott?” Harry asked, glancing across the table at Theodore Nott, pen in hand.

“Potter, I mean Auror Potter, I swear I didn’t see or hear anything else. If I did, I would tell you. I want to catch the scum bags who hurt my mother as much as you do” Theo said, voice resigned. 

“Very well. Thankyou for your help and I will contact you if we need any further help” Harry said, closing the files in front of him. Theo stood, and quietly made his way out of the room. Harry sighed, and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. 

Four days of back to back interviews and he had obtained very little usable information. Most people hadn’t seen or heard the assailants, and they hardly left any evidence in the house. Any evidence that was left, was long lost as it hadn’t been immediately examined by aurors at the time. 

Harry had managed to obtain some partial descriptions of the attackers from some witnesses, however they were always wearing robes and masks to help hide their identity. The only piece of evidence the attacks had in common was a symbol, usually smeared in blood on the walls of the room where the victims were found. 

The symbol was a circle, intersected by three wands and a pair of shackles. 

So far, the symbol could not be traced back to any previous organisations, individuals, or even legends. It got Harry no closer to the assailants than before. 

Vic sighed, and tipped back in his chair next to Harry. He crossed Theo’s name off a long list and dropped his file onto the table. “Is he the last one for today Harry? I can only have my hopes dragged through the mud so many times” he said, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He turned to look hopefully at Harry. 

Harry didn’t miss the way his eyes swept up and down Harry’s body before settling on his face. This man was at least six years younger than him. He was learning to levitate feathers while Harry was killing the darkest wizard of the time. He wasn’t sure how to let him down gently. 

“Yeah Vic, that’s the last one for today. Finish up logging the evidence files you gathered, and you can go home. Check in with Head Auror Robards before you leave. “ Harry said, standing up and stretching his legs. 

“You didn’t want to grab a drink did you Harry?” said Vic, a slightly nervous tone to his voice. Harry had seen this coming. 

Harry turned to look at him and ran his hands through his hair again. “Not tonight Vic” he said as kindly as he could manage. “I’m knackered and I just need to go home.” Harry shrugged off his new auror robes, revealing the crisp white T-shirt and black jeans he was wearing underneath. Vic nodded in resignation and turned to leave. 

“And Vic?” Harry started, causing the younger man to pause in the doorway of the interrogation room, “I just got out of a bad relationship” he said slowly “I’m not looking to start anything new” he said tiredly. 

Vic blushed a little and nodded. “Sorry Harry, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable or anything… just thought I’d… shoot my shot you know” he said, burying his hands in his pockets, looking down. 

“It’s okay. You can make it up to me by being on time tomorrow.” Harry said. “And by bringing decent coffee” he added. “Merlin, I miss decent coffee. The ministry coffee is shocking” he said, smiling a little. 

“Can do Boss” said Vic. He smiled his bright smile at Harry before walking out, closing the door softly behind him. 

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. He knew Vic had good intentions, and a genuine interest but, it was too soon. Harry still couldn’t think of Liam without a painful aching in his chest. He knew he shouldn’t still be thinking about him. What he did was wrong. So wrong. But it didn’t stop Harry missing him. 

He had been a constant presence by his side for so long, and now he was half way across the world, probably not even aware Harry had left. Probably not thinking about Harry at all. 

Returning to his office, Harry dumped his case files in his desk drawer, and locked it. Checking the clock and seeing it was well past dinner, Harry sighed and locked up his office.

He nodded at his assistant, an elderly woman named Miriam, and turned to leave. “Have a good night Mr Potter. And for my sake, eat something. You get awfully grouchy when you’re hungry.” 

Harry grinned at her, and pulled a packet of every flavour beans from his pocket, popping one into his mouth. Miriam shook her head at him. “Goodnight Mr Potter” she said. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow Miriam” Harry said, making his way outside. The air outside was crisp, and a light breeze brushed against Harry’s skin. The sky above him was dark, and a few scatted stars twinkled weakly over the city lights. 

Making his way to the apparation point, Harry tucked his hands in his pocket. It would be a nice night to get out, he thought. 

Harry returned home and went through the now familiar process of making himself a quick dinner and showering to wash away the stress of the day. Harry knew he should be tired, but he was restless. The case hadn’t progressed very far, and Harry needed time to think, and time to clear his head. Making a split-second decision, Harry pushed open his kitchen window, and closed his eyes. 

Focusing on his magic, Harry felt himself begin to shift. His body shrinking, and his arms lengthening into wings. Standing on Harry’s floor now, instead of a man, was a huge white-tailed eagle. He hopped up onto his counter, and launched himself out of the window, his enormous wings carrying him high into the sky. 

Harry tried to stay out of sight for the most part. These types of eagles were almost extinct in Britain and tended to draw attention when he got too close. He knew there was a large park not too far away, a couple of miles at most, and he needed to clear his head. No one would be in the park at this time of night anyway. 

It wasn’t long after Harry finished auror training that he began to try and achieve his animagus form. It took him weeks of frustration and many shed feathers to finally shift. And learning to fly took even longer. The disappointment that he wasn’t a stag like his father wore off quickly, as the feeling of soaring through the air was something Harry missed terribly. 

But now, seven years later, it was in this form Harry felt most free. Felt as though he could clear his head without the usual worries pressing down on him. No one recognised him in this form. No one expected anything of him in this form. It was just him, and the feel of the air beneath his wings. 

He soared even higher in the sky, looking down at the city lights below him. It was so quiet at this time of night, so peaceful. He swooped down a little as he neared the café he has visited less than a week before, and watched as the young girl locked up the doors and began to walk down the street. 

Not too far ahead was the park he had been thinking of. He couldn’t see anyone else around now. He tucked his wings into his body and pulled into a sharp dive downwards, feeling the wind rush in his feathers as he plummeted. He extended his wings again at the last moment and glided to a graceful halt at the edge of the park. 

In the middle of the park there was a huge pond, full of koi fish. Harry had taken to perching on the top of the fountain and watching them sometimes. He envied how at peace they seemed. Beating his wings, he ascended back into the sky, and made his way towards his usual spot on the fountain, near the pond. 

He was so lost in his own thoughts, he didn’t notice the blonde man seated on the park bench not far away, under some low hanging branches, watching him. 

He landed on the top of the fountain, and looked down at the koi fish, watching them for a few minutes. A voice startled him out of his thoughts. 

“You better not be after some dinner there, bird” drawled a quiet, familiar voice from behind him. Harry spun around and cawed as he laid his eyes on Draco Malfoy. Sitting alone, on a park bench, in the middle of the night. What an odd man.   
Harry didn’t move, he just watched him. He knew it would seem suspicious if he made any sign that he understood him.

“You are a magnificent creature, aren’t you” said Draco softly, making no move to stand up. He laid his book down on the bench next to him. 

“Surely a hunter like you doesn’t need to steal Koi fish from a pond. Surely there’s something more challenging you could hunt.” Draco said, watching Harry like he wasn’t really expecting a response. 

Harry ruffled his feathers and cawed again, watching Malfoy nervously. He wasn’t sure whether Malfoy had caught on to what he was, or if he thought he was merely watching a bird in the park. 

Malfoy laughed quietly at his indignant display. “I know you can’t understand me bird, but you do seem to have a quick wit about you” Draco said, reaching for the small bag he had next to him. He pulled out a sandwich and began unwrapping it. 

The man Harry had known before would never have eaten midnight sandwiches in the park, and he wouldn’t have been caught dead talking to a bird. 

“I know bird, I know” he said, taking half of his sandwich out of the wrapper. “This isn’t the best dinner, but my son is staying with his aunt Pansy and, I don’t usually make proper meals when he’s gone. I never feel like eating when he’s away. Draco took a small slice of ham out of the middle of his sandwich and tossed it onto a clean section of stone near the bottom of the fountain. 

Harry glanced down at the ham, before looking back at Draco and ruffling his feathers again. He looked down once more, before spreading his wings, ignoring the ham, and a little flying closer to the bench where Draco was seated. He landed on the ground, his talons sinking deep into the grass. 

“Well bird, I suppose I wouldn’t want to eat ground ham either” Draco mused to himself. Harry blinked at him and turned his head to the side. It struck him again how much Draco Malfoy had changed. How kind this man was beneath his icy exterior. 

Harry knew he should leave. He never should have stayed as soon as he realised Malfoy was there. But something about this man drew him in. Something about him made Harry want to stay.   
Harry stood there in silence, still quite a distance from Draco, watching him. 

“What are you waiting for bird?” asked Draco quietly, crossing his legs underneath him on the bench. “Are you lonely as well?”

Harry stretched his wings out a little and started to preen himself. 

Draco shook his head and laughed a little. “Look at me” he said, his voice full of amusement, “I’ve gone properly insane. Talking to birds in the park at midnight”. He stood and gathered all his things in his arms. 

“Until next time, bird” he said, turning and slowly making his was up the path, back to the street. Harry stayed there for a few more moments, unsure of what had just happened, and then took off back into the air. 

He looked down at the streets below and spotted Malfoy heading down the road, past the café, and out of sight. 

Harry slowly made his way home, savouring the feeling of being in the air. He didn’t tend to use his animagus form as much as he would have liked, as Harry had chosen not to register his form with the ministry. He wanted this one small thing, to just be his.


End file.
